Beautiful goodbye
by mimsy24
Summary: Sherlock remembers the time he was with the Woman. "Beautiful goodbye" by Maroon 5 was just the song I felt really perfect for this otp. I don't if this is a song fic but I just really love this idea. Hope you like it! :)


**When I heard the song Beautiful Goodbye by Maroon 5 I just felt that it is the perfect song for this OTP. Then I came up with this idea.**

**I just with my laptop and I don't know what I'm doing but I just wanna share to you this. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. The dialogues from this fic are from the minds of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss based from the characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Enjoy!**

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**Beautiful Goodbye**

Caring is a disadvantage. Sherlock pondered in his reverie. He was bored. No cases from Lestrade and the clients who visit just give him something that somehow a waste of his time.

Then out of nowhere he goes to his mind palace. He remembered. He remembered the Woman. The first time he met her, her face, her cleverness. The last time they saw each other. Everything seems like memories that happen days ago. But in reality it has been months.

_I count the ways I let you down__  
__All my fingers and toes but i'm running out__  
__Clever words can't help me now__  
__I grip you tight but you're slipping out_

He can still his almost downfall. But he got through her. Irene was a totally different woman unlike other people whom Sherlock think as average. He hasn't felt so intimidated with anyone else except when she is around. Of course he won't let anyone see it. But when he is Irene, somehow he breaks. Yet in the end he did not let her. Well, partially.

"Here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees. Nicely played," Mycroft said to Irene admitting his defeat.

"No," Shelock's voice echoed in the room.

"Sorry?" Irene said.

Sherlock answered her, "I said, no. Very very close, but no. You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much."

"No such thing as too much," she mocked.

"Oh enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine. Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathize entirely. But sentiment, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side," he uttered.

"Sentiment. What are you talking about?" she asked confusingly.

"You."

"Oh dear god, look at the poor man. You don't actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you're the great Sherlock Holmes? The clever detective in the funny hat?" she said laughingly but she can him moving closer to her.

He leaned in, "No. Because I took your pulse," whispering in her ear. He touched her hand, "Elevated, your pupils dilated." Then see him getting her camera phone at the table behind her. Then she knew. She lost.

_And I remember your eyes were so bright__  
__When I first met you, so in love that night__  
__And now i'm kissing your tears goodnight__  
__And I can't take it, you're even perfect when you cry__  
__Beautiful goodbye, bye, bye__  
__It's dripping from your eyes, your beautiful goodbye__  
__It's dripping from your eyes, oh yeah_

Sherlock has to play the game. He figured her out. So he continued, "When we first met you told me that disguise is always a self portrait—how true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements. But this, this is far more intimate. This is your heart. And you should never let it rule your head. You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you worked for. But you just couldn't resist it, could you? I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof."

He remembers the tears waiting to shed in her eyes. Her voice cracked, "Everything I said, it's not real. I was just playing the game."

"I know. And this is just losing," he said as he revealed her pass code, S-H-E-R LOCKED.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft, "There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight."

Then he remembered feeling he wants to take it all back that had happened. Though they have estranged relationship as brothers he knows he owes Mycroft.

"I'm certain they will," Mycroft replied.

Sherlock knew the consequences, "If you're feeling kind, lock her up. Otherwise let her go. I doubt she'll survive long without her protection." He watched her wanting to fight for her life. She was looking at him.

"Are you expecting me to beg?"

He didn't know how to reply but "Yes," was all he can say at the time.

The he heard her beg, "Please. You're right. I won't even last six months."

He decided at that moment that he would trace her after that whole incident. "Sorry about dinner," was all he can say to her.

_When did the rain become a storm?__  
__When did the clouds begin to form?__  
__Yeah we got knocked out of course by a natural force__  
__And well, we'll be swimming when it's gone_

Memories that hurt. Memories that changed him. Memories that were so new that he keeps repeating in his head.

That night where he kept remembering Mycroft's conversation with his phone, "Bond air is go."

He did not notice her.

She sat across him in the living room in John's chair. He unconsciously struck his violin.

"Conventry," he muttered in his trance.

"Never been. Is it nice?" Irene Adler said letting him out in his reverie.

He looked around searching for John. "Where's John?" he asked her.

"He went out. A couple hours ago," she answered.

"I was just talking to him."

She said with a knowing smile, "He said you do that."

Then he explained to her what he knows about the Coventry. The government's possible plans. She looked at him intensely.

_And I remember your eyes were so bright__  
__When I first met you, so in love that night__  
__And now i'm kissing your tears goodnight__  
__And I can't take it, you're even perfect when you cry__  
__Beautiful goodbye, bye, bye__  
__It's dripping from your eyes, your beautiful goodbye__  
__It's dripping from your eyes, oh yeah_

"Have you ever had anyone?" she said.

He confusingly looked at her, "Sorry?"

She smirked, "And when I say "had" I'm being indelicate."

"I don't understand," was all he can say.

"I'll be delicate. Let's have dinner." Irene stood up from her seat and touched his hand, "Let's have dinner."

"Why?"

"You might be hungry."

"I'm not."

"Good," smiling.

"Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn't hungry," then change the way their hands touched while looking at her intently.

She was surprise with his reply but she should continue to play her own game, "Oh, Mr. Holmes, if it was the end of the world—if this was the very last night—would you have dinner with me?"

Then Mrs. Hudson's voice came out from downstairs, "Sherlock!"

"Too late," she said heading to his bedroom.

"It's not the end of the world, it's Mrs. Hudson," he said following he with his own eyes.

_All the pain you try to hide__  
__Shows through your mascara lines as they stream down from your eyes__  
__And let them go, let them fly__  
__Holding back won't turn back time__  
__Believe me, i've tried_

Now his mind was set in Karachi. He searched for her whereabouts for months. Sherlock didn't know if he can get to her before her execution.

He was the one to put her in that situation. But he cannot afford to hear that she is dead without to trying to help her.

When he already finalizes everything, he told John that he had a case outside London and he can handle it himself. He knew Mycroft would be suspicious but he should take the risk. He can stay away from London 2 days, tops.

He got his plane ticket to Pakistan. Find the right people to fool his big brother. He took care of Irene's passport, her new identity, everything that would not set a trace that she is alive.

Sherlock got through the terrorist cell. He posed as her executioner. When the time came, he saw her with the guards pushing her and commanding her to take her position.

He saw how vulnerable she was. But she held her head high not letting them see her defeat. She asked for her last text. Then, she kneeled before her executioner. He saw the tears from her eyes. Sherlock thought for a moment maybe she would contact anyone she knew in her past.

But then a familiar moan, her text alert tone buzzed in his phone. He knew it was time for him to move.

"When I say run, run!" he said. Then, he attacked the guards. When all was clear, they ran together.

_Your eyes were so bright__  
__And I remember your eyes were so bright__  
__And I remember your eyes were so bright__  
__When I first met you, how in love were we that night__  
__And now i'm kissing your tears goodnight__  
__And I can't take it, you're even perfect when you cry__  
__Beautiful goodbye, bye, bye__  
__It's dripping from your eyes, your beautiful goodbye__  
__It's dripping from your eyes, yeah_

In those two days, many things happened. He just hopes she stays safe from where he left him.

Months later, John brought him the news that Mycroft said Irene Adler was in America in a witness protection program. He smiles to himself. He fooled his brother even John.

His bored state directed him to his drawer. He is holding the camera phone that belonged to the Woman. He reads her last text message, "Goodbye Mr. Holmes."

Then he reached for his own phone. He checked for his new messages. A message from Lestrade asking him to go over Scotland Yard to help on a case, John telling him that he would late because he is on a date, and a text from an unfamiliar number that said:

"Do you still remember me Mr. Holmes? - IA"

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Goodbyes? What Goodbyes?

..haha a reference from Ben's speech in Crime Thriller Awards.

Benedict and Lara are so cute there that I want to ship them too. Oh well. Let Sherlock and Irene resolve those UST.

Please R&R...would really help me a lot to keep going on my other fic.


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